Live for Him
by EloraCooper4
Summary: Collins can't forgive himself and Roger tries to convince him that there is nothing to forgive. Part 2: Collins gathers the courage to move on.
1. Part 1

Note: I hope you guys like this as much as I did writing it. (gives tissues in advance) I know that this is gonna be a touchy issue for a lot of people, but I tried to deal with it as realistically as possible. Because no matter what you or I may believe or want in a romantic universe, the world keeps turning. A big shout out to "The Killer in Me" a Buffy episode, which is where this basically comes from.

Collins burst into the loft, out of breath, his hands in fists. His eyes darted around the main room. There was no filmmaker. His ears listened. There was no distant sound of Muzetta's Waltz. "Good," Collins muttered to himself before calmly shutting the door behind him. Then he snapped. 

He curled his fingers into tighter fists, short fingernails digging into his palms. With a shot breath, he threw himself into the steel door. First his left shoulder hit, then the right. "No. No. No. NO!" Collins yelled each word getting louder and louder augmenting the smack of his shoulder to the steel. Tears welled up in his eyes, but not from the pain his in shoulders. He dug his fingernails in his skin harder and harder, blood slipping through the surface. That was what he wanted really. There were so many internal bruises, lesions. He needed to have them physically on his skin.

When Collins ran out of breath he simply rested his head on the door and banged his fist against it. 'Just gather up more energy,' He said to himself quietly. 'Then we can try again.'

"Collins?" A weak voice asked.

The philosopher snapped his head back to see a confused Roger, his guitar in hand. The scarf around his neck told Collins that he had just returned from seeing Mimi via the fire escape. His nervous left hand started to rub his right palm along the trickles of blood made by his own nails.

"It seems like since I moved back in with you guys…I can't seem to get a moments peace," Collins said with a hesitant and weak smile. He eyed his friend, seeing that Roger was looking more and more worried by the moment. The rocker must have heard every thud, every scream.

Roger nodded slowly putting down his guitar on the sofa and unwrapping his scarf from his neck. "Yeah…well…if you ever need some alone time…" He said with a weary voice, "Just let us know. I can stay with Mimi, and Mark could stay with the girls."

"Yeah…that might be nice one day," Collins said nodding and putting his throbbing fists in his jean pockets.

"Just say the word," Roger replied in a whisper. Then he crossed his arms and looked around the room. "Did something fall down? I thought I heard something…fall…"

Collins shrugged. "I…I didn't hear anything. Just got in." He tilted his head towards the door as if Roger didn't know how his friend entered the loft. But it also gave Roger a clue.

"What the…what happened to the door?" Roger moved quickly to the entrance of the loft and surveyed the damage. The pulley, which opened and closed the door had snapped. And there was a large dent in the metal even with Roger's eyeline. He carefully raised his hand and put it in the newly dented space. "What happened?" He asked looking back at Collins.

"I think I might have slammed it too hard when I came in," Collins offered pulling himself away towards the kitchen.

Roger watched his friend knowing. "Collins, man, what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on, Roger," Collins sighed while grabbing himself a glass of water. "I came in, I was kinda angry and I slammed the door. I didn't realize it. It's not a big deal." He took a sip of his water and blinked repeatedly.

The rocker raised his hand and pointed, "You're lying."

"Huh?"

"You blink when you lie," Roger supplied while slowly inching towards Collins. "I haven't lived with you for years and not paid attention."

Collins closed his eyes and then shook his head. Then, he plastered a smile on his face. "Yeah I guess so. All these years I thought you were in lala land and really you were being all detectivey noticing our mannerisms. Impressive really. How's Meems?" It was a desperate attempt to change the subject. But Collins was beyond desperate. This was not something that he wanted to talk about. If only Roger understood that.

"What's going on? That was you, wasn't it?" Roger asked pointing towards the door. "And I know you're strong but you're not that strong. At least a simple slam isn't that strong. Why are you so pissed off?"

"Roger…" Collins held up his hand. "Do me a favor? Just drop it. I don't wanna deal with this right now. All I want to do is take a shower and go to bed."

His friend shook his head then he paused noticing the blood on Collins' hand. "No…no way in hell. Not until I know why you were so upset. You're bleeding…and I heard you scream, man. You don't scream when you're ok…especially you." Collins was famous for never letting the big emotions get to him. Even when Angel died, he never truly had an emotional breakdown. At least in front of his friends. He kept those things to himself. Which was one more reason for Roger to worry about him, if hew as actually showing his pain, something was wrong.

"It's not a big deal. I was just…pissed at myself and that's the end of it," Collins said taking another drink of his water as if it was really Stoli. "Bad day. Nothing you can do. It's just a bad day so stop worrying."

Roger wouldn't bite. He crossed his arms and tilted his head towards the door. "What did you do?"

"You know…you aren't my parent. I don't have to answer that."

The rocker shrugged. "Humor me."

Collins let out a deep sigh and then looked towards the door as if he needed a reminder. His aching shoulders were enough of a remembrance. "I was…I was really pissed so I threw my shoulder into it. If we need a new door I can pay for it. No big deal. Ok you happy now? Sheesh. And you think Mark is a mother hen? Who's wearing the feathery bloomers now?"

"Cut the act," Roger whispered harshly. "You can save the witty wordplay for later. Why did you do that? You know that's bordering on self-destruction there…why did you want to hurt yourself?"

The glass of water was now empty, and Collins let it drop into the sink. He turned on the water to wash away all hints of his blood from the glass. "I was pissed off at myself. I wasn't gonna do anything stupid. I was just pissed and wanted…to take it out on my shoulder. Don't worry…I'll realize how stupid it was tomorrow morning when it starts to ache."

Roger let his eyes drop to the floor, but he continued on. "Why were you angry with yourself?"

"No. I don't wanna talk about it," Collins said turning off the water. "I always gave you space when you wanted it. Same with Mark. It's time you give me some space, all right? Just leave it." When he finished speaking his eyes began to fill up with tears. But they refused to leave his lids. He held up his bottom lip, refusing to let it quiver. His hands were back in fists.

"No," Roger murmured. "Collins what happened-"

"Davis, will you get a fuckin clue? I don't wanna pour my heart out to you right now!" Collins shouted at his friend, his whole voice echoing in the apartment.

Roger held his hands out to his sides. "Why not?" He asked showing no real fear of Collins' raised voice.

"Because I'm so disgusted with myself, I don't want you to hate me," Collins snapped back.

"I couldn't hate you-"

"What if I kissed someone?" Collins screamed his voice cracking at the last word.

Then there was silence. Roger froze unsure what to say at first. Ever since Angel's death, Collins had refused to date or even humor the idea of being with someone else. Roger and Mark had given it a try, hoping that he would give in and find someone. But it seemed like a fruitless mission. Collins bypassed all of their encouragement. A part of Roger was glad about Collins' revelation, now his friend could finally be happy again. But the look on Collins' face told the man that nothing was that easy.

"Collins…there is nothing wrong with you kissing someone," Roger whispered gently.

Collins laughed bitterly while running his hand along his mesh cap. "Yes there is, Roger. Do you remember Angel?"

"She's a hard one to forget…Collins…you have to-"

"What move on?" Collins questioned throwing his hands into the air. "Oh yeah…moving on from the love of your life…there is no moving on, only betrayal. Judas Iscariot, whatever level of hell. My soul mate…I can't turn my back on her…him. And I did that today." He raised his arm to his lips and wiped them off as if he was disgusted by them.

Roger wrung his hands for a moment and then slowly approached him. "Collins, you need to be happy-"

"The only way I can be happy is if Angel is back," He said immediately before Roger could finish his thought.

"Is that your head talking or your heart? Who was this person anyway?" Roger asked standing on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. His green eyes searching for Collins' brown pair. But the man refused to raise his head.

"It doesn't matter." He muttered.

Roger frowned deeply and leaned across the counter to put his hand on his friend's shoulder gently. "Collins…you're not betraying Angel by living your life. Do you think she would want you to lock yourself up in the loft and never come out until the disease took you? Do you think she would want that?"

"She would want to be with me." Collins rotated his shoulder to push off Roger's hand. Then he pushed past Roger and sat in the window seat staring out onto the streets of New York.

"That's not an option."

"Bullshit."

"Hey…don't…I know what you're going through," Roger pointed out when he sat down next to Collins. "You just have to stop pretending like everything is dandy with you cause we all know that you aren't in a good place. We don't expect you to be."

Collins pressed his eyelids close begging for the tears to stay where they were. "But that's it Rog. For a moment I was. My heart fluttered again. And there were fireworks in my head again. But those things…they only belong to Angel. Not to him."

"So you wanna be miserable for the rest of your life?" Roger asked quietly.

His friend opened his eyes finally letting his tears fall down his face. "Hopefully it wouldn't be too long."

"Bite your fucking tongue!" Roger shouted his eyes wide at the notion. He'd had enough of suicide in his life or simply wanting death to come. "I know this is shit on you. Because I know how it feels. Loving someone so deeply and loosing them. Then finding someone else on your door. Someone you didn't want. Hell, after April died I knew I was gonna die without another kiss. I knew. But then Mimi came…"

Collins shook his head. "That's different."

"How?" Roger wrinkled his nose almost offended. "Yeah, maybe April and me didn't have a ride quite like you and Angel did. But we were still in love. You know we were." He said pushing Collins' shoulder gently as if to push him back into the old days. The days when Roger and April were practically attached at the hip, their lips almost always sealed together.

"Yeah…I know," Collins mumbled looking away out onto the streets.

Roger watched his old friend for a moment. He had to say something. Collins and Angel were always saving everyone in the group. Now it was his turn to do something. "Collins…" He started, his words spoken quietly, "I know…I didn't know Angel as well as you did. But I like to believe that I came to know him pretty damn well. And you know what made him so damn happy? You know that deep smile, he had? What would make him smile was watching you. Watching you kid around with Maureen. Tease Mark. Chat up politics with Joanne. Man, he loved just seeing you happy. Seeing you smile. Now…what do you think he just thought of what you just did?" Roger asked pointing towards the door. "Hurting yourself like that? He hated it. If he was alive and standing here right now what do you think he'd do? Collins…you have to live your life now for Angel. Instead of with him. Every fucking thing that he did in this world was to make people happy. And you were number one on his list. He always wanted to make you happy first. So you better live your life and make it a happy one. So that Angel can watch from heaven and be just as happy. No tears in heaven man…you gotta make sure of that."

Collins hung his head as Roger's words sunk into him. He whispered, "But…but if I betray her-"

"How are you betraying her? Collins…Collins he's dead. He's dead. Live for him, don't die for him," Roger replied putting his hand on Collins' shoulder and squeezing it.

Collins raised his eyes revealing his face covered in tears. "This is so messed up," He uttered under his breath.

Roger let out a sole laugh. "I know. But…in the words of some amazing philosopher…life sucks…but not always."

"Never knew about that last part," Collins mumbled letting a small smile spread on his face.

"A new addition," Roger explained squeezing Collins' shoulder again before leaning back with a sigh. He looked out of the window and wondered if any of his words made sense or had any effect. "Are you gonna call him? The guy you kissed?" He asked gently as he hesitantly glanced over at him.

Collins gulped and murmured, "I don't know. But I'll think about it." He looked down at his hands and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket.

Roger took it from him and carefully patted at the small wounds on his palm. "That's all I can ask for."


	2. Part 2

Note: This is for MissB8604. Cause she requested it and well, she's just one of the best Collins/Angel people around. Once again, I know it's a touchy subject, but try to stay open minded.

For the past six months, Collins became a pizza fanatic. More specially, he was a fanatic of Leogetti's Pizza a few blocks down from his office at NYU. It was a perfect place for lunch. Far enough from the campus so he could pretend that he didn't have piles of papers waiting for him. And close enough so when he realized his Modern Philosophy class started in five minutes, he could sprint and still make it on time. Plus, their veggie lovers pizza was orgasmic is Collins' opinion. It became a habit, once a week, twice a week, three times a week, every weekday, and then finally every day. Needless to say, the workers and the manager got to know Collins pretty well. They warmed him a few slices in advance, knowing exactly at what time he would walk through the door. Collins had relationships with some of the workers. Millie, a waitress, was actually one of his students. And when she had extra time, she would sit with him and discuss future class sessions. Tito, the table buster, would wave to him and try to converse with him in Spanish. The man always laughed at Collins' attempts at his language. All the professor could manage was "hello" and "what time is it?" Then of course there was Noah.

It should have been just another ordinary day at Leogetti's Pizza. Just another lunch. He would converse with Tito, wave to Millie…everything would be fine. Just as long as Noah took the day off. Collins looked into the window of the pizzeria and gulped seeing Noah's form. The tall lanky red head had a rolling pin in his hand, and seemed to be beating down pizza dough as if it had personally wronged him. Millie was behind cash register, her eyes wide. Tito would take the dough and roll it out slowly, wincing at every slam. Even the patrons seemed a little bit disturbed by the constant slugging of the rolling pin into mound after mounds dough.

"Good thing I wore my sneakers," Collins whispered to himself as he entered the pizzeria. Heads turned to greet the new customer. But instead of getting his usual lively welcome he was welcomed with silence. Millie looked down immediately not even willing to maintain eye contact with her professor. Tito sighed deeply and turned away to focus on the job at hand.

Collins slowly walked up to the cash register. "Can I umm.."

"The usual?" Millie asked quietly with a forced smile. Even though she spoke to him, her eyes still refused contact.

"Ummm…yeah sure." He pulled out his wallet from his jeans and raised his head to see that Noah had replaced Millie at the register.

He punched a few numbers into the cash register, pounding every key as he went. "That's two dollars and fifty five cents."

Collins fumbled with the money as he felt his cheeks get hot. He had to say something. That's why he came…he was here to make things right. Not for the pizza. For the past few weeks Collins' reason for coming to Leogetti's had shifted from the pizza to someone else.

"Wait…its usually two dollars and fifty cents…did you up the price?" Collins asked taken aback.

Noah didn't seem to shaken and held out his hand. "Extra veggies cost extra," He explained in a monotone voice. "Two dollars and fifty five cents…sir."

That last part stung. Collins looked up at Noah and said quietly, "We gotta talk, ok? I didn't come for the pizza and you know that. We have to talk."

Noah held out his hand further. "Two dollars and fifty cents. I mean fifty-five cents…" He said catching himself quickly. "Fifty-five." Collins placed the money in the red head's hand and replaced his wallet.

"Can we…please Noah. At least let me explain. Cause there is a damn good reason," Collins mumbled under his breath.

"There better be!" Tito called out.

Noah rolled his eyes and looked back at the 65-year old Mexican man. "Tito…I'm flattered but I can handle myself…" He turned to look back at Collins who was staring at the man with so much hope in his eyes. "Fine…" Noah whispered. "My office…Millie can you watch the-"

"You got it," She said quickly taking up her old post.

Noah titled his head towards the back of the pizzeria and headed towards it slowly. Collins studied the man carefully. It seemed like all of the rage that was in the pizzeria owner earlier had subsided. Or at least, found itself a new hiding place. Collins wondered if he was going to burst on him when they were alone. He couldn't blame him…he didn't understand. Even though Noah saw Collins every day since early 1991, they never really talked about their pasts. Collins knew vaguely that Noah was a writer who was down on his luck and worked at a pizzeria to make ends meat. The former owner had passed away a few years back and left it all to his favorite employee. The kid who couldn't hide his Irish heritage if he tried. A second generation Irishman owning a pizzeria. Only in New York City. And as for Collins, all he told him was that he was a philosophy professor. That much Millie could have supplied. So he didn't know…he couldn't have.

With no real sign of anger, Noah closed the door of his office leaving the two men alone. His office was where it all happened and the memory was enough to make Collins feel as ashamed as he knew he should feel.

"So…you came here to talk. So…talk," Noah said quietly while leaning on the corner of the desk. He was careful not to disturb the towers of papers that were piled on his messy desk.

Collins wrung his hands together. "You know…I didn't mean to…do what I did. I really didn't mean to…"

"You didn't mean to kiss me and then literally run out of the door. Two doors…this one and then the front door. You didn't mean to do that?" Noah asked. To Collins' surprise there was no bitterness in his voice. Only a sense of fatigue.

"Noah…" Collins looked away for a moment and said quietly, "You scared me is all. You don't know me, Noah. Sure you know…my personality. But you don't know…"

"Then tell me," Noah said quietly taking a step closer and looking at his hand for a moment as if he would take it. But the man stood still and simply watched Collins. "Tell me. Make me…understand."

Collins gulped and tried not to glance at the door. He had to remind himself why he was here. Who Noah was…and not who Noah wasn't. "I've had a shitty…horribly shitty and amazingly wonderful year at the same time. I mean…last year not this one. Ways…I don't know if you'd understand-"

"Stop saying that," Noah said finally gathering the courage to take Collins' hand. The philosopher looked down at them. Noah was almost a little taller than he was, and smaller in bone structure. But their hands seemed to almost be the same size and shape. Not like Angel's. Her hand fit into his. But Noah's, they just melted into his. It was different. 'Live for him…' Roger said in Collins' head. "Just tell me…cause if it's strong enough to make you run away…it must be somethin. Somethin strong."

Collins nodded slowly and continued, "I didn't believe in love. It seemed like a nice idea, but I was all logic." Noah smiled slightly knowing that to be true. They had an argument once on the proper treatment of meat in which Collins stated his vegetarian stance solely on logic. "But then…he came along. Well technically brutes came along to beat the ever loving shit out of me. And then this angel…Angel…found me. There I was a day later hopelessly in love."

The color started to fade from Noah's already colorless complexion, his head no doubt coming to the unsaid conclusion. "We were amazing. Hopelessly, ridiculously in love. And then…you know. That damn disease…he died in my arms. And I haven't really…liked someone since then. I loved him too much," Collins explained his voice cracking. Of course this wasn't the full detailed version. He couldn't have contained himself if he told that version.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Noah asked quietly.

"Oh yeah," Collins chuckled to himself. "We really didn't have the normal probationary period for this. Apparently, I'm not fond of that. So when was I going to tell you? Mention it when he were sharing a slice of veggie lovers?"

Noah shook his head slowly. "I guess not. But if you told me…I wouldn't have placed." The red head's eyes went wide with the realization of the word he just said, "…never mind."

"Wait, wait, wait…placed what?" Collins asked pulling his hand away from Noah's to place it on his hip, "Were those extra veggies peed on or something."

Noah laughed, his shoulders shaking and eyes lighting up along with the laugh. "No…no just a few Irish curses nothing to worry about." He took Collins' hand in his own again nonchalantly.

"You did what now? You cursed me?" Collins asked laughing in total shock. "What did you do? Dance around the pizzeria and sprinkle oregano?"

The restaurant owner pushed Collins lightly. "No…it was paprika."

Collins squeezed Noah's hand a little bit too hard teasingly. "I didn't know they had paprika on the Emerald Isles…or wait is that Scotland."

"Bastard. Call yourself a college professor and you don't even know the difference between Ireland and Scotland," Noah balked poking Collins straight in the stomach with his free hand.

Collins winced and backed away but kept a hold on Noah's hand, "Was I right?"

"You are awfully damn lucky that you are right. Don't let that go to your head though. I know how you like to think of yourself," Noah replied shaking his head in pity. Then he paused and let their playfulness fade back to seriousness. "Collins…I don't wanna push you into something you don't wanna do. That never was my intention."

Collins closed his eyes. "I know, Noah. You were the innocent bystander in this one believe me. I was the perp…I just…I still love him. And I felt like I would be betraying him if I…"

"Moved on?" Noah supplied with a hesitant smile. "Well…you do have to live your life, Collins. You are always talking about living the life to the fullest and…you gotta take the chance when it comes," He added quietly. A pang of guilt hit Collins as he remembered another complication to all of this. Collins was HIV positive, he did have to take the good things when they came. And here was Noah right in front of him.

"You do make me laugh, you know," Collins practically whispered as he glanced down at their hands. "Remember the time when you burnt the pizza and was trying to get me to eat it? Telling me it was a delicacy in some made up country."

A gentle smile spread across Noah's face as he chuckled. "And you ate it. That's the amazing thing. You ate it while hysterically laughing. Tears and all…"

"I wanted to humor you," Collins explained.

Noah rolled his eyes. "You were flirting. Even though you weren't ready to kiss me you had no problems flirting. You never seem to have that problem…" The man paused and then added. "Really Collins…I'm leaving this up to you. I'm not…mad anymore. Just…homesick I guess?"

"Homesick?" Collins asked wrinkling his forehead. "You wanna go back-"

"No," Noah shook his head. "I mean…I love this place, Collins. I do. But I haven't been lost on the irony to the fact that I'm the last person that should be owning this place. Hell, you're more Italian than I am. I never thought I was doing what I should be. And then the strangest thing happened. You came around and I got comfortable. I brushed off the ethnic jokes that I used to dwell on. I had a confidence…that I'm pretty damn sure I never had before. And I couldn't for the life of me understand why I was whistling all of the time. I never whistle." Noah paused and then took a deep breath continuing, "But then I put two and two together. When was I the most comfortable in the day? Around one thirty. I looked forward to that time like a little kid wants to get out of school or something. And it took me a while to figure out why. It's because you smiled at me every time you came in. Even if you were in a bad mood. And especially when _I_ was in a bad mood. Just that little gesture…became the start and finish to my day. I'm not trying to sway you…ok that's a lie I am…but if you can't kiss me than at least come in here every day and smile. I don't think I could live without it anymore."

Collins' dark brown eyes met Noah's green and he leaned in to press their lips together gently. The fireworks were there again, but this time, there was no guilt. Only a faint reminder of what used to be called love. And what love could be now.

Noah kept his eyes closed when they parted. Then he waited for a few moments and opened one of his eyes cautiously. "You…you didn't run."

"Yeah…I didn't. I wanna be happy again…and the only way that would be is if I can tease you, smile at you, and kiss you." They shared a fiery kiss, all of their wants and lust and need pouring into each other. And this time, Collins didn't hold back.

* * *

Three days later, Collins slowly made his way through the graveyard, his hands in his pockets. He paused at a familiar grave and leaned over. "Hey Angel…" Collins whispered as his fingertips followed the grooves that made up Angel's name. "Miss me? I know…it's only been a day. But it used to be a long time for us. It still is…." With a grunt, he sat down in front of the gravestone. "So…Roger made me come here and talk to you. Actually…Roger and Noah. Who's Noah you ask? Well would you believe that he owns a restaurant on New Mexico Avenue?" Collins looked up to see the red head standing behind him. 

Noah reached out and placed a bouquet of daises by Angel's grave.

Collins smiled deeply. "Look, baby…you're favorites…how'd you know?"

"I asked Roger," Noah said with a slight wince. As if he should have known on his own.

Collins chuckled and then replied, "Oh so you didn't use your grandmother's curses to get your way. Ow!" He whined when Noah smacked him gently.

"Your lover is a wimp," Noah told the gravestone. Then he cleared his throat. "I never got to meet you. But…from what Collins has told me about you…you must have been one hell of a person. And I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for making him believe in love. I made a few prayers to my mother…and hopefully she's already told you all about me. The embarrassing childhood stories I'm sure…just another companion in heaven…I hope you don't mind." He looked over to Collins and reached out to brush away some of his tears.

"Thank you," Collins whispered taking Noah's hand and holding onto it tightly. The two men stood up and slowly walked away their hands clasped together.

Roger watched the new couple from April's gravestone. A small smile spread across his face, and he looked up at the sky nodding to Angel. Then he carefully placed a bouquet of carnations on the grave before him. "Here's to first loves…" He looked to his left to see Mimi greeting Collins and Noah. "And to new loves." Then Roger walked away from his beloved past to his beloved future.


End file.
